


red velvet

by thunderylee



Category: Kansai Johnny's Jr., SixTONES (Band)
Genre: Biting, Bloodplay, Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2019-01-15 18:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12326424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Hokuto’s never been one to deny himself sweets.





	red velvet

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for donation.

Yuuma’s eyes are just as big as Hokuto remembers, except that they’re looking at him much differently than before. For one thing, Hokuto is the taller out of the pair of them now, so Yuuma’s looking up at him instead of the other way around.

“You look like a vampire when you smile like that,” Yuuma tells him, and it would be creepy if it were anyone other than Yuuma, who always says creepy shit.

So Hokuto just smiles brighter, flashing his teeth and watching how those eyes almost flash back at him in return. “Jealous that I don’t need plastic fangs to play one in a drama?” he teases.

A small scoff prefaces Yuuma’s faint smirk. “Who said anything about a drama?”

Hokuto blinks for as long as it takes those words to sink into his head. He’s not usually this slow to catch on to such blatant forwardness, but it’s usually not coming from this person. They haven’t exactly been estranged since BI Shadow broke up, but they’re not attached at the hip either. Exchanging pleasantries backstage at the filmings of Shounen Club and last summer’s Pintokona had been the most interaction they’ve had since either of them have been old enough to be forward about anything.

“You should come over tonight,” Yuuma goes on, and Hokuto has to give him credit for not even trying to pretend that he doesn’t have ulterior motives.

“If I do, are you gonna teach me how to suck blood?” Hokuto asks, only half joking.

Now Yuuma offers him a sly smile. “If you’re lucky.”

Hokuto’s no blushing virgin, but if he had to pick a flavor to represent his sexual experience, it would probably be a relative of vanilla. Yuuma’s like red velvet, way too rich and staining your mouth but it tastes so good, and Hokuto’s never been one to deny himself sweets. That’s why he’s the only one out of the old Bakaleya crew who can give Shintaro an actual challenge in wrestling.

He almost expects Yuuma’s apartment to be completely dark, decorated in all red and black satin with antique furniture, but behind those eyes Yuuma’s just a twenty-year-old kid with white walls and a budget. He’s wearing a sweatshirt from some American college Hokuto’s never heard of and an old pair of jeans that seem to be molded to his lower body, catching Hokuto staring but saying nothing as he invites the younger boy inside.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Yuuma offers, ever the polite host, except that there’s more subtext than in Kisumai crosstalks.

_Just your blood_ , Hokuto bites back, though he doesn’t hide his smile as he shakes his head. “I’m good, but thank you.”

He can be polite too. He watches as Yuuma heads to the small kitchen anyway, pouring a cup of water before sitting down on the ratty couch, patting the next cushion for Hokuto to join him. Hokuto does, flopping down like the overgrown teenager he is, his own jeans rough against his skin. They’re new.

“You don’t look so badass close up,” Yuuma tells him, and Hokuto turns to see those big eyes right in his face. “You’re still a cute kid underneath all of that sex appeal.”

“I find it hard to be offended by anything you just said,” Hokuto replies with a grin.

“Offending you is counterproductive to my goal here, isn’t it?” Yuuma asks, blinking so innocently that Hokuto falls for it, but only for a second. “You’ve grown up really well.”

“You too,” Hokuto says, feeling like the dumbest moron on the planet at how weird he feels right now. He’s charmed all kinds of boys and girls to date, but his old leader Nakayama Yuuma is the one to cripple his game.

“Too bad you’re not twenty yet,” Yuuma goes on, sighing dramatically. “We could have a beer together.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Hokuto says, wiggling his eyebrows like he used to do to the senpai when he was underage. “I’ve had it before, you know.”

“I don’t doubt that you have, but…” Yuuma trails off, nodding at his water. “Somehow I want to be sober for this.”

Hokuto blinks at that, and when he opens his eyes again Yuuma’s are closed. A split second later, lips are on his, and it’s so different than any way he’s been kissed before. It’s teasing, exciting, a promise and a threat all at once and Hokuto doesn’t think twice before grabbing Yuuma’s jaw with his hand, kissing him back with anticipation. If a simple kiss can make him feel like this, he can only imagine how much better it can get.

Yuuma seems relieved that they’re done talking, wrapping his arms around Hokuto’s neck and letting Hokuto take the lead. Hokuto didn’t expect it to be like this at all—in the short time since he’d starting thinking about the two of them together, he’d just assumed that Yuuma would be the one in control—but it works out because Hokuto can’t stop himself from lowering Yuuma down onto his back and climbing on top of him, settling easily between his legs and licking between his lips, demanding entry.

He makes it so easy, lying pliant beneath Hokuto and arching with every touch, like he likes everything Hokuto does to him. Or maybe he’s just so starved for attention that everything feels good; Yuuma has always been a bit of a loner when it comes to Johnny’s, not getting too close with anyone since he’s been solo. This just has Hokuto touching him even more, proud that he’s the one Yuuma chose to bring home, trusting him enough to just lie back and enjoy whatever Hokuto has in store for him.

And oh, Hokuto has a list of what he wants to do, but right now all he can focus on is Yuuma’s body alive and squirming beneath his, fingers digging into his shoulder blades with each swipe of Hokuto’s knuckles along hot skin. Yuuma isn’t bony by any means but he’s thin around the middle, his ribs and muscles prominent enough for Hokuto to feel the difference, his hands so active under Yuuma’s sweatshirt that it ends up shoved under his armpits.

Yuuma surprises him by actively pulling it off, breaking their kiss temporarily to do so, but the lust radiating in the quick blink open of Yuuma’s eyes reinforces Hokuto’s desire to go down his list one by one, starting with that smooth neck.

“How much of a mark can I leave?” he whispers, unaware of the depth of his own voice until it rumbles through both of their bodies.

“Until I say to stop,” Yuuma answers, and Hokuto’s nerves singe at the single line stealing all of his power in one heartbeat, reclaiming the control Hokuto had thought was given to him. Now Hokuto’s still the one on top, but acting on Yuuma’s word, whether it be spoken or nonverbal.

Either way, Hokuto’s arousal soars at his permitted free reign on Yuuma’s neck, dragging his lips down Yuuma’s throat until he finds a good spot. He can feel Yuuma’s blood pumping beneath the surface, drawn to it like he really is a vampire who survives on another’s life as he bares his teeth in such an unfamiliar way.

Yuuma’s moan prefaces any contact, though it resounds in Hokuto’s ears as he scrapes his canines along the skin and feels Yuuma jolt beneath him. Hips rock pointedly against his and Yuuma’s so hard that it’s almost chafing, denim on denim as Hokuto’s body rushes to get friction and grinds him into the couch.

“Harder,” Yuuma whispers, and Hokuto doesn’t know whether he’s talking about his bites or his thrusts. He ends up doing both, sinking his teeth into that deliciously enticing skin as he snaps his hips so hard it pulls a gasp from his own lungs, and that seems to appease Yuuma who just arches and pushes back, leaning his head back to give Hokuto all the access in the world.

“I’ll mark you all up if you do that,” Hokuto hisses, sucking on the mouthful of flesh he already has before moving over. “Everyone will think you really did get attacked by a vampire.”

“Let them think what they want,” is Yuuma’s calm, breathy reply. “Mark me anywhere.”

That has Hokuto groaning into his next bite, just below Yuuma’s adam’s apple, followed by a sharp cry when Yuuma scratches rather sharp nails down Hokuto’s back.

“You’re not the only one who can brand,” Yuuma says, and a fresh wave of need crashes over Hokuto’s body. “Think of how good it’ll feel when you’re inside me.”

“Yuuma,” Hokuto breathes, digging his teeth in a little harder than he intends, fueled from the continuous throb of Yuuma’s scratches. “I can’t stop.”

His admission gets muffled by Yuuma’s shoulder, then his collarbone, then back up to a fleshy spot behind his ear, but Yuuma just rocks beneath him like an angry tide, urging him on. Hokuto vaguely registers hands at his waist, opening his pants and all he can do is sigh in relief because Yuuma’s fingers are so much better than fabric.

“Don’t end this before it begins,” Yuuma taunts him. “I’ll be really disappointed if I don’t get fucked into this couch.”

“Oh, you will,” Hokuto promises, his own hands ridding Yuuma of the rest of his clothes as well. He sits up to yank his shirt over his head and gets caught in Yuuma’s stare on the way back down, those giant eyes glazed over and so, so dark, trapping Hokuto more than just physically.

“It’s okay if you fall,” Yuuma tells him, ever the cryptic. “You’ll find your way up when it’s over.”

The analogy weighs heavy on Hokuto’s heart as he leans down to press their mouths together, giving in to everything he wants to feel and bringing Yuuma with him. Yuuma’s legs lift on their own, pulling Hokuto between them, and Hokuto can barely reach into the pocket of his jeans on the floor to get the tube and foil packet he’d brought with him.

“Prepared,” Yuuma comments, and Hokuto smirks at him as he coats his fingers. “Good kouhai.”

Hokuto wants to retort that even Shintaro would have known that he was getting laid tonight, but being reminded of Yuuma’s seniority has him staying quiet. Besides, those big eyes are on him again, and right now Hokuto would love nothing more than to watch Yuuma’s face as he stretches him open.

“At least you can do this better than you pretend to play the keyboard,” Yuuma gets out, his eyes falling shut when Hokuto retaliates with a jab inside him.

“Only you would pay attention to that,” Hokuto mutters.

“I pay attention to your hands,” Yuuma says, effectively shutting Hokuto up. “I like your fingers.”

“I bet you do,” Hokuto growls into Yuuma’s neck, sneaking in a quick bite along with another finger. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“I don’t do this often,” Yuuma mutters, his scowl interrupted by a moan and a sharp buck of his hips. “Right there, Hokku.”

“Got it,” and Hokuto presses against that spot, curling his fingers to massage it gently as he revels over the way Yuuma falls apart beneath him. It’s exhilarating to watch, Hokuto leaning up on his elbow to do exactly that, admiring all of the bite marks on Yuuma’s upper torso as well. “You’re a mess,” he adds.

“Fuck me,” Yuuma replies, actively pushing back against Hokuto’s fingers now, and Hokuto gets in a third one with little resistance. “I want you now. Do it.”

Still calling the shots even with his knees up by his shoulders, face flushed with arousal and eyes burning with lust, Yuuma grabs Hokuto by both arms and yanks him closer, effectively pulling Hokuto’s fingers from his body. Hokuto barely manages to get the condom on before Yuuma’s ankles are hooked behind his back, pressing them so close together that Hokuto’s cock practically pushes in on its own.

“ _Yes_ ,” Yuuma breathes, hips slowly rocking to take Hokuto all the way in. “Feels good.”

“Yeah it does,” Hokuto agrees, speaking into Yuuma’s collarbone, held tightly by Yuuma’s arms and legs locked around him like a seatbelt. He almost can’t move, except that Yuuma allows him that much, at least enough to thrust like he’s wanted to since they were burning the denim on their jeans.

Yuuma’s suddenly vocal, loud moans and whimpers tickling Hokuto’s ears as Yuuma’s body squeezes him over and over again, making his own skin prickle. His mind fades so much that his teeth find their way back to Yuuma’s neck, gnawing without inhibition as Yuuma gets even louder, holding him more tightly.

Hokuto should expect it, but those nails raking down his back has him letting out his own groan, hips moving on their own faster than before. If Yuuma keeps it up, this isn’t going to last much longer, but the way Yuuma cries desperately when the wet head of his cock bumps Hokuto’s belly shows his matching level of impatience.

The cries get higher, almost melodic as Hokuto reaches down to take Yuuma in his hand, pumping him in time with their rhythm and Hokuto feels Yuuma’s nails break skin as he comes, spilling over Hokuto’s hand and tightening even more around him. Hokuto starts to slow down, but Yuuma shakes his head and grabs Hokuto by the hair, all but smashing Hokuto’s face into his neck and Hokuto’s mouth is open before his lips touch skin.

“Do it,” Yuuma hisses, breathing hard into Hokuto’s ear as he continues to shiver out his orgasm with Hokuto still inside him. “Drink me.”

What little coherence Hokuto has left doesn’t think he could actually do it, but a sharp pierce of his teeth and a metallic taste hits his tongue. Yuuma’s moans aren’t entirely sexual, but he does nothing to stop Hokuto from sucking another drop as Hokuto fucks him so hard that the couch bounces back up against him. Hokuto is so close, the taste of Yuuma’s life on his tongue just as stimulating as Yuuma’s muscles clamping down around him, but it’s another scratch down his back that inevitably does him in, leaving him shuddering uncontrollably as his orgasm takes him over.

“You got heavy,” he hears Yuuma mumble later. Hokuto grins proudly as he pulls out and splays his limbs all over Yuuma to disperse his weight. “ _Ow_ , get off.”

“Just did,” Hokuto replies brattily, feeling like an even younger kid bickering with Yuuma like this, his body still buzzingly numb. “I missed you.”

It just comes out, but Hokuto feels too good to care, and it only gets better when Yuuma’s fingertips gently trace the undoubtedly red welts on his back, pressing a kiss to Hokuto’s forehead.

“Your lips are red,” is all he says, and his lingering taste on Hokuto’s tongue is sweet.


End file.
